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I haven’t told Zoe. I didn’t tell her about the other three failed attempts. How can I tell her I’m coming home and then have to tell her I’m not anymore? I will call her when I’m certain. When there’s no chance of it going wrong.
It’s been a year since I was able to hold her in my arms, to touch her, to kiss her. A fucking year. So much for ten days. I don’t know how I’ve gotten through a full year without her. I’ve tried everything to speed the mission up. I even got court-martialed for almost ruining a carefully planned operation by going rogue. My Zoe is worth it. She’s worth the fucking world. But nothing I did or said could change the situation we were in, and I knew it would be a long fucking time before we were together again.
At one point, I was almost positive we wouldn’t get home alive, that I would never again get to see her, to hold her, to taste her. Only the thought of her waiting for me keeps me going, forcing me to push through every day. Our calls make it easier in some ways, as I get to check in with her, hear her voice, and keep up with her life. I get to get her off, even if she has to do the legwork herself. In other ways, our calls make it even harder to be away from her because seeing her, hearing her, reminds me of how much I crave her. How much I love her. It reminds me that she’s three thousand miles away from me.
I pray that this escape mission works. Generally, I don’t pray, it’s never been my thing. I wasn’t brought up to be religious, but if there is a God, he’ll get me out of here. He’ll deliver me safely back home and into Zoe’s arms.
All I can think about is kissing her, licking her all over, and fucking her all night long. Stretching her pussy, breaking her in, claiming her in ways I should have claimed her a year ago. I know she’s ready for me. I see it in her eyes on our calls. I hear it in her voice. When we get together, it’s going to be explosive.
The kiss I left her with doesn’t even come close to showing her what she’s in for when I get my hands on her, my cock in her. I thought I was like a coiled spring then, but now it’s off-the-charts lust I feel deep in my veins every time I think of her.
I’m going to absolutely fucking ruin her. I’m going to break her and leave her unable to move for hours afterward. And then I’m going to take her in my arms, hold her close to my heart, and never fucking let her go again.
***
We did it. We fucking did it. The plan came together, and we managed to get back to the US. I’m still far from home. I’m sitting in O’Hare airport, but I’m free. I’m back on US soil, and no one can force me back into active duty ever again. I’m going to see my wife. To make her feel exactly how much I’ve missed her.
There’s still a tiny part of me that wonders if it will happen. I wait for someone to come crashing through the doors at the gate, shouting my name and telling me I can’t board the plane. I know it won’t happen, but I can’t let myself fully believe this is real. Not yet.
An hour passes. After everything I’ve faced in the last year, this hour should be the most relaxing hour of my life, but somehow, it’s the worst, most agonizing hour of my life. It’s being so close and still having this niggling feeling that it can all be ripped away from me. It’s how I imagine a marathon runner must feel when they can see the finish line but they have a cramp in both of their legs, and their lungs are on fire. They know the end is in sight, they know they can do it, but a little voice in their head tells them to give up. To lie down and accept their fate.
I won’t fucking do it. I won’t lie down and accept my fate until I’m lying in Zoe’s arms and she’s my fate. A cheerful, electronic voice calls across the gate.
“Flight number A5731J to San Diego International Airport is now boarding at gate seven. I repeat, flight number A57231J to San Diego International Airport is now boarding at gate seven. Thank you.”
I stand up on shaky legs. This is it. The moment I have been waiting for. I step up to the gate. A perfectly coiffed woman dressed immaculately takes my passport and my boarding card. She smiles and hands them back to me.
